Life Itself
by scarysamgirl
Summary: Harriet Potter is kidnapped by Death Eaters, but what they have planned for her is not at all what she expects. This is a story about how the worst things that happen to you can make you more powerful than you can imagine and how fighting to stay alive is what saves you in the end anyway. [tw: rape, sexual abuse] H I A T U S
1. Trial by Fire

**Chapter One:** Trial by Fire  
" _Sometimes, only one person is missing, and the whole world seems depopulated._ "  
\- Alphonse de Lamartine

The light of the grounds after the darkness of the Astronomy Tower was disorienting, but Harriet Potter hardly noticed it as she raced across the grass, the moonlight shining down from above illuminating her path. Her heart felt like it was being torn in two. Every single time she closed her eyes, even when she blinked, she saw a flash of green light and Dumbledore's body flying off the Astronomy Tower to the hard cold pavement below.

But she was ignoring that for the moment.

If she thought about it, it would only hinder what she was presently trying to accomplish.

Stopping Dumbledore's killer from getting away.

Severus Snape, Draco Malfoy, and the other Death Eaters were all strutting across the patch of land that stretched between the castle and the Forbidden Forest, heading for the edge of the grounds where they could Disapperate.

Harriet wasn't going to let them get that far.

She paused at the top of the stone steps leading down to Hagrid's cabin and let out a small gasp. Even from here, she could see that the wooden hut was on fire, the orange glow much more harsh, bright, and present than that of the moon.

Trying not to think about what the hut being on fire could mean, she raced down the steps, clutching her wand between her shaking fingers. Once she reached the bottom, she could more clearly make out the black figures standing in front of the blaze.

Bellatrix Lestrange was at the head of the group, though she didn't seem to be its leader. Fenrir Greyback and the Carrows were following close behind. But Draco Malfoy and Severus Snape were missing.

Harriet's grip on her wand tightened and she gritted her teeth. It was stupid and foolish to follow a group of Death Eaters that were bigger and stronger than her into the Forbidden Forest, but at the moment she couldn't possibly have cared less about what they could do to her. She was going to have her revenge if it was the last thing she ever did. She had lost too much already. She wasn't going to let this death go unpunished as well.

"Where is he?" she shrieked at the Death Eaters.

The fire was at her back now. She imagined it lit her up in a blaze of glory, but what the Death Eaters saw was a hysterical and enraged little girl, devastated by the hand life had dealt her thus far. The picture was enough to make Bellatrix laugh outright and the other Death Eaters chortle along with her.

"Are you talking about Severus?" Bellatrix asked. She pointed in the direction of Hagrid's burning hut as she sauntered between the other three Death Eaters towards the young witch standing at the edge of the trees. "Because he's long since gone. He and Draco both disappeared after their little drama on the tower with your dearly departed Headmaster."

"Shut up!" Harriet shouted through gritted teeth. Her entire body was shaking. Her hands were clenched into fists. Her brows were closely knit together they almost looked like they'd melded and become one. The anger coursing through her was dangerously close to boiling over. "I know he's here. Where is he?"

"Gone." Bellatrix sounded far less patient than she had a moment earlier.

This only served to enrage Harriet further.

She raised her wand, the words of the curse she'd used on Draco not too long ago in the bathroom on the tip of her tongue, but before she could get any of it out, her wand was knocked from her fingers. She watched it fall to the ground as if in slow motion, while the other Death Eaters – Fenrir Greyback and Alecto Carrow – grabbed her arms, holding them behind her back.

For a moment, she struggled in their grip, trying to get one of her arms free, so she could pick her wand up off of the forest floor blanketed in dead, dry leaves. Then Bellatrix picked up her wand and began twirling in between her fingers. She was reminded uncannily of Tom Riddle in the Chamber of Secrets during her second year and, just like that, the fight left her. She slumped, her knees buckling and head dropping between her shoulders. Her dark hair fell in front of her face, her glasses slid down to the end of her nose, and she stared at the ground of grey leaves, tinted orange in the light of the fire behind her. The only thing keeping her upright was the iron grip of Fenrir Greyback on her arms.

She didn't understand what was going on, but did it really matter? Did anything really matter anymore? Dumbledore had been murdered by Severus Snape, a man he trusted, a man who was, evidently, still a Death Eater. And now here she was in the Forbidden Forest with the rest of his posse, unable to find who she'd come for to begin with, so they'd captured her. But what had she expected to happen? She'd walked right into their trap. She might as well pay for it. In exactly the way they had intended.

Harriet felt the tip of her wand on the underside of her chin, forcing her to look up into the face of Bellatrix Lestrange once more.

"You're not as bright as they make you out to be."

"So they told me," Harriet managed to hiss out, but it came out more desperate than she had been intending and that was the last of the fight left inside her. The moment Bellatrix moved away, commanding Fenrir and the Carrows to bring her with, reminding them that the Dark Lord wanted to see her anyway, her head drooped again and she grit her teeth to keep the tears swimming in her eyes from falling.

The last time she'd felt like this had been exactly one year ago when Sirius had died.

The hands holding her pulled her roughly to her feet and forced her to start moving forward. She staggered a couple steps and moved forward, keeping her eyes on the gray and orange ground instead of Bellatrix's back.

Suddenly, the person behind her stopped walking. She looked up, opened her mouth to ask a question and –

A hand fondled her breast. Another pressed at the space between her legs. Fenrir Greyback pressed his face into the hollow of her neck and took a deep breath, drinking in her scent in a way that made a shiver run down her spine and gasp escape from her lips.

"The Dark Lord has other plans for you," he breathed into her ear. His voice was dangerous and low. Harriet noticed Bellatrix had gotten much farther ahead of them. She could barely make her out through the darkness of the trees pressed close together in the forest.

Fenrir let out a low chuckle, one that made her shuddered in fear and memories she'd tried to forget surface in her mind.

"I can't wait to get you back to the Manor."

And then he gave a bone-chilling laugh.

Harriet could feel herself shaking, could feel all hope of this being a relatively painless experience drain from her almost instantly as fear of what was to come took its place.

ϟ

The rattle of the train as it chugged over the tracks, taking them away from school and back towards home was the only thing keeping Hermione's mind from going into full-blown panic mode as she stared out the window of the Hogwart's Express. She watched the world zip by in a flash of green, yellow, and sometimes blue, trying her hardest not to think about what had happened to put her mind into such a state of unease to begin with.

It had been less than a month since Dumbledore's murder at the hands of Severus Snape and Harriet Potter's capture at the hands of the Death Eaters Draco Malfoy had let into the school, but the wizarding world had yet to calm down about either one of these events, so, naturally, she hadn't really calmed down either.

Normally, these train rides from Hogwarts to King's Cross Station were full of games of Exploding Snap, tasty treats from the trolley, and talk of what they were all planning on doing over the summer. But now, she, Ron, and Ginny sat in complete silence, trying with difficulty to keep themselves from contemplating what they were going to do over the next few months.

The plan had originally been to start looking for Horcruxes and not going back to school when it started up again in September, but with Harriet kidnapped and their only lead to the location of the Horcruxes dead, that no longer seemed to be a viable option.

It was halfway between Hogwarts and home that Ginny finally broke the silence by asking in a soft, timid voice, "What are we going to do?"

No one answered because no one _had_ an answer. Hermione didn't have any brilliant plans. Ron fully admitted he was mostly incapable of coming up with those kinds of plans. And Ginny had been asking the question and therefore didn't have a good response either.

A few more minutes of silence passed before Hermione replied, without turning away from the window, "I was thinking we could go speak with the Order."

"What could they do that we can't?" Ron asked.

Hermione replied uncharacteristically by shrugging. "Perhaps get Harriet back in a way we can't or haven't thought of?"

Ginny shook her head and whispered, mostly to herself, "They won't help us."

This time Hermione _did_ turn away from the window. "Why not? Harriet's the most important person to the wizarding world right now. Surely they'll – "

But Ginny continued shaking her head. "They have more important things to do right now, like coming up with a way to save the world themselves. Harriet was captured by Death Eaters to be brought to-to You-Know-Who. They think she's dead and there's reason to bother mounting a rescue for a corpse."

"It doesn't hurt to ask," Hermione said softly, going back to looking out the window.

No one answered and she didn't expect them to.

The trolley came by a few minutes later and Ron got up to buy some sweets. He ended up buying himself, Ginny, and Hermione all a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, but no one really ate them. They opened their boxes and spent the rest of the train ride picking out a bean before putting it back. Sometimes they might pop one into their mouth, but not one of them finished their box before the Hogwart's Express pulled into King's Cross Station.

In near absolute silence, Ron put Pigwidgeon back in his cage and Hermione managed to coax Crookshanks back into his carrier. Ginny put her Pigmy Puff back in the pocket of her hoody. They left the compartment, leaving the Bertie Bott's boxes on the seats.

"I'm going to talk to my parents," Hermione said as they got off the train and went to retrieve their trunks. "I'm going to tell them what's happened and explain that I need to stay with you because of it. I'm sure they'll understand."

Ginny nodded. Ron didn't reply.

The platform of 9 ¾ was packed with students, parents, siblings, and other family members come to greet their other family members as they got off the Hogwart's Express. The Weasley family was immediately distinguishable by the mass amount of red hair in one place, which was normal for them. What wasn't normal was the silent way in which they were standing. Just like everyone else, they knew what had happened to Harriet Potter and, if Ginny was right about the Order's way of thinking, they probably assumed she was dead already.

As Hermione looked around the platform, she noticed, suddenly, how somber it seemed. Every smile seemed forced, every hug seemed to end too quickly, and everyone seemed eager to get home. No one wanted to stay to chat, no one wanted to make anyone promise to write until next year. The kidnap of the Chosen One had made everyone glum. Even the Slytherins that detested Harriet's very existence seemed to have a pall cast over them.

 _I wonder if Harriet has any idea how important she is,_ Hermione thought to herself as she sought out her own parents. _If she does, she certainly doesn't act like it._

Mr. and Mrs. Granger were standing near the Weasley family. They, too, looked solemn and Hermione wasn't sure if this was because the feelings of everyone else on the platform was effecting them or if because the Weasleys had told them why everyone was acting that way to begin with. The Grangers had never met Harriet, but they were empathetic and knew how close Hermione was with her. They knew that if Harriet was kidnapped and presumed to be dead it would be affecting her negatively.

"Hello mum," Hermione said, forcing a smile that she didn't feel onto her lips. "Hello dad."

She gave them both a hug.

"We heard what happened, darling," her mother told her as she embraced her. "I'm so sorry that's happened to your friend. We know how much you care about her."

Hermione nodded. "Actually, that's what I was going to ask you about," she said softly, staring at her hands, suddenly nervous. "I-I want to stay with Ron and Ginny over the summer, if that's alright. I think we can rescue her, but I need to stay at their house."

"Hermione," her father began, "they think Harriet is dead. How can you rescue someone who isn't alive?"

"I think she is alive," Hermione replied. "And I think I can rescue her."

"Won't that be dangerous?" her mother countered. "These people who've captured your friend have most likely killed her. You can't go after people like that."

"No one else is going to, mum," Hermione said. "I have to try."

Her parents were silent for a moment. They exchanged nervous glances. Then her father turned back to her and said, "Alright. You can stay with your friends over the summer. Just as long as you talk to some more experienced witches and wizards about this first. If you're going to go rescue your friend, I want you to have people with you who know what they're doing."

Hermione forced herself not to feel bitter about the fact her parents thought she wasn't experienced enough to rescue Harriet, but they had no idea all she had been through so far, so she couldn't really judge or hate them for it.

She smiled and said, "I will. I promise. Thank you."

She gave them both another hug and moved over towards Ron and Ginny.

"They said I could come home with you, if it's alright with your mother."

Ginny nodded again. She hadn't spoken since they'd gotten off the train. In fact, now that she was standing more closely to them, Hermione could see that all of the Weasleys looked just as bad as Ginny. None of them were speaking. They all seemed to be waiting for her, so they could leave. No one wanted to be there anymore.

It was then that the gravity of the situation hit Hermione with a force she hadn't felt previously. Harriet had been kidnapped by Death Eaters. She'd most likely been taken to Voldemort. If that were the case, then the Order and everyone else was right. She was probably dead. And yet…and yet something inside her told her that that wasn't the case, that Harriet was alive and waiting for someone to come save her.

 _We're coming, Harriet, I promise,_ Hermione thought, staring up at the ceiling of King's Cross Station after they walked back through the barrier separating Platform 9 ¾ from the Muggle world. _Just hold on. Just wait for us._

* * *

 **NOTE:** Alright! Here's the first chapter! I got it done last night when I finished planning out the entire first fanfiction that is going to be in this duology. I'm really proud of this idea and what's going to happen and how everything is going to happen, so I hope everyone likes it! All you need to know is that basically everything (except Harry's relationship with Ginny) has happened exactly the same as it has in the books up to this point. There's just...a different story that's going to be told now. I guess this fanfiction and the one that comes after it are both a rewrite of the Deathly Hallows. Like I said! I hope you enjoy! Please fave and review if you do!


	2. The Fishbowl Effect

**Chapter Two:** The Fishbowl Effect  
" _It is now recognized thatdissociation_ _is a way of forgetting, for a time. The mind siphons off the bad memories into a separate part, and reclaiming those hidden-away memories us a complex process. So, when the memories resurface it does not feel as though they belong to you, it feels alien, more as if someone had told them to you, or you had seen the images in a film_."  
\- Carolyn Bramhall

Pain, familiar and yet new to her all at the same time, radiated like a heat wave out from the space between Harriet's legs. She stared at the pillar to her left, stuck into the cement flooring of the room she lay in, her eyes hollow and gaunt with deep black circles beneath them that looked like bruises she'd gotten in a fist fight.

This was not the first time this had happened in the month since she'd arrived at Malfoy Manor and been thrown into their damp, unfinished basement, and she knew by now that it was far from the last time either. The first time she'd been able to think of herself as unlucky. The second time was just another spot of bad luck. The third time she'd realized it was a pattern. And by the time the fourth came around, she accepted it completely.

Today it was Amycus Carrow. Tomorrow it might be Crabbe and/or Goyle Sr. The day after that, who knew who it would be? All Harriet knew was that three times a week and sometimes more, without fail, a Death Eater or two or three would stomp down the velvet covered steps to the barred door leading into her dank and musty cell. They would pin her to the ground, pull down her pants and underwear, and force themselves inside her. They wouldn't stop if she bled, they wouldn't stop if she begged them to, and they wouldn't stop if she hurt them. The only way they would stop was when they'd had their fill, dirtied her with what was inside them, and left her, trembling and filthy on the floor of the Malfoy's basement.

The first few times, Harriet had cried. Now she was slowly losing the ability. Sometimes, when it all became too much, a few tears of pain would escape her eyes, but other than that, her expression remained blank, stoic.

Defeated.

It was almost strange to Harriet to be back in this position when she hadn't been for nearly six years. The last time anyone had forced themselves on her was when her uncle had been molesting her and sometimes raping her as she grew up in the Dursley household. Her aunt had never noticed and the one time she'd tried to tell her as a little girl, Petunia had slapped her so hard across the face, her cheek had burned for hours afterwards. Once Vernon found out what she'd done, he'd threatened to kill her. He warned her she was only there because Petunia insisted on it and he would have no problem ending her life and all the problems she brought with her. Harriet had believed every word he'd said and allowed him to hurt her until she got her Hogwarts letter when she was eleven. Everything had changed then and something had changed with Vernon as well. He'd seemed to relinquish control over her when she made the decision to go to Hogwarts and so for almost six years, she'd been safe.

Now, everything had changed.

Alecto Carrow thrust deep inside her one last time and shuddered on top of her. For a few moments, he lay on top of her, breathing heavily. Then, finally, he pulled himself out of her, his sticky wetness falling out of her as he did so. He stood, zipped up his pants and left the cell.

Harriet lay where he'd left her for longer than she was able to count, shaking, staring at the pillar, wondering how long it'd been there and who'd carved it. That was what she thought about every time one of them came down into the cell. She focused on something in the room, and she thought about how it got there until she could almost ignore the radiating heat and agony between her legs and pretend she'd floated off to wherever that pillar had originally been sculpted or the ceiling had first initially been painted.

She could lose herself in the fantasies of the history of the house she was trapped in long enough to ignore the pain of her present.

 _It's not that bad,_ a voice inside her mind whispered to her now. _You are able to forget it, even if only temporarily. That means it's not that bad. There are plenty of people in this world who have it worse than you. Don't feel bad about this. It's nothing to feel bad about._

Everything the voice said to her was true.

At least to her.

No, it wasn't that bad. Yes, she was able to temporarily forget it. Yes, there were plenty of people in the world who had it worse than her. And no, what was happening wasn't anything to feel bad about. Especially after everything she suffered in her time at Hogwarts.

"It's not that bad," she whispered to herself.

The words felt heavy on her tongue, as though they carried with them a weight that she was not yet familiar with and, in all likelihood, shouldn't have been.

But she'd decided that didn't matter because, like she'd said, it wasn't that bad.

The moonlight shone in through a small window set into the basement wall near the ceiling, illuminating the darkness in which she lay. For a long time, Harriet stared at it, watching how it glistened off of the small pools of water made in the depressions of the stone. She saw how it reached the wall to her right near the cell door and lit up the space there. As the shock of another violation wore off of her body, through painful experimentation and movement, she found that the closer she was to the left wall, the better she could tell if someone was coming down the stairs to where she was being kept.

As her focus fell away from the moonlight to trying to find the driest, most comfortable patch of stone to spend the night on, she began to tremble again as the realization of what had just happened to her yet again caught up with her mind.

Tears welled in her eyes as she scanned the room for a place that wasn't covered in a layer of damp. She closed her eyes and the tears fell to the ground, mingling with the moisture already there. She stepped over it, took off her shoes and socks, and felt with her feet on the floor for a place to sleep where she wouldn't wake up the next morning with hypothermia.

 _At least your brain is still functioning,_ the same voice from before whispered to her. _If you can function even now, it's not that bad. You're upset over nothing._

Harriet shook her head, trying to quiet the voice, but it didn't work.

A part of her believed that voice, though logically she knew it was wrong, and it was that part of her that listened to it and did what it asked of her. She slumped to the floor in the corner of the room, drawing her legs up against her chest, staring at the moonlight, her eyes losing focus once more.

It was almost the end of June. It had been almost a month since Dumbledore's death.

ϟ

Hermione paced the bedroom she was sharing with Ginny, a piece of parchment turned into a crumpled paper ball in her fist. Her other hand was curled just as tightly, her teeth were gritted, and her hair appeared frizzier than usual.

"I can't _believe_ they would say this," she gasped out, her words barely distinguishable through the anger and venom in her tone. "She's the Chosen One for God's sake. She's the best chance we have at destroying You-Know-Who and righting everything he's wronged and they're saying they're just going to _leave_ her with the people that want to kill her?"

"I _told_ you," Ginny said despairingly. She was sitting on the edge of her bed, watching Hermione pace, wringing her hands, struggling to keep her own anxiety under control. "They think that Harriet's dead. They don't think there's any reason to send anyone to rescue her because they think that sending wizards to get her is just sending them to die. They don't think there's anyone worth saving."

"But she _is_ worth saving!" Hermione replied, wheeling around to face Ginny. "And she _is_ alive! Don't you think if Vol – You-Know-Who had killed her, he'd have let everyone know as soon as it happened? People would give up and stop fighting instantly! They'd succumb to the regime he wants them to right away, so it wouldn't be in his favor to keep it from us if she was dead."

Ginny said nothing. She didn't have an argument for her friend. Everything Hermione said made sense and it frustrated her just as much that no one else, even wizards who were their friends, could see what Hermione could see so perfectly clearly.

"How did you and Harriet meet again?" she asked softly, staring at her shaking fingers.

Hermione turned to look at Ginny. "What?"

Ginny looked up. "How did you and Harriet meet?"

Hermione let out a heavy sigh and plopped down on the bed next to Ginny. "On the Hogwarts Express our first year," she replied. "I came into the compartment she was sitting in with Ron to ask her if either one of them had seen Neville's toad, Trevor. It wasn't until we were almost murdered by Hagrid's three headed dog in the third floor corridor that we became friends, though." She turned to look at Ginny. "What about you?"

"I saw her during Ron's first year," Ginny answered almost instantly "But I didn't know it was her at the time. I didn't really meet her until she rescued me in the Chamber of Secrets during my first year, which is odd, since that was the first summer she spent at our house."

Hermione gave a small smile and Ginny returned it, but neither one of them really felt the action they were presenting. Harriet was still missing and that was still only a fact because she'd been kidnapped by Death Eaters. And they'd just been rejected by the Order of the Phoenix when they'd requested help to go to rescue her.

In an instant, Hermione's smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

She looked away from Ginny, her gaze turning to her stocking feet on the wooden floor.

"We have to figure out a way to save her ourselves, then," she said in a whisper. "We don't have any other choice. The world says she's the Chosen One and from what I know about her and from what I've seen, I believe they're right. Harriet _is_ the Chosen One. She _can_ destroy You-Know-Who. And she's _not_ dead. Not yet."

"So we have to save her," Ginny finished.

Hermione repeated the statement with a nod. "So we have to save her."

And this time when she smiled, it was genuine.

* * *

 **NOTE:** Kudos to anyone who didn't read the quote and figured out what was going on with Harriet without help ;) Alright, I wanna say that I realize this probably sounds out of character for Hermione to do, but idk. I think if she was in this situation, she would be this logical about it and would be able to do her own form of dissociation to figure out how to handle it.


	3. Starlight, Starbright

**Chapter Three:** Starlight, Starbright  
" _Where you used to be, there is a hole in the world, which I find myself constantly walking around in the daytime, and falling in at night. I miss you like hell._ "  
\- Edna St. Vincent Millay

The darkness of Harriet's cell at midnight was absolute. She might've thought that the black would magnify her senses tenfold, make her more able to tell when there were footsteps on the stairs leading to where she was sleeping, a key turning into the bared door of her room, and footsteps again, this time on the wet stone. But it didn't. And she didn't realize a group of five Death Eaters had come into her cell until they were upon her.

For a few moments, she was terrified.

 _All of them?_ She thought, horror freezing her mind, body, and soul. _At once? In a row? Oh god, I didn't know what I couldn't survive and I know it's this._

However, when they touched her, it wasn't in the way they usually did. They pulled her to her feet and dragged her out her door. They led her up the velvet covered stairs to the room above. They forced her to her knees on a Persian carpet that was the softest thing she'd felt in weeks. She almost fell to on her face with exhaustion, but the Death Eaters held her shoulders, keeping her upright, keeping her from feeling any of the comfort within her grasp.

Her eyes opened and she had a moment to notice, for the first time since she'd arrived over a month ago, she was out of her cell and in the room above. Her last thought was whether this was the Malfoy's parlor or dining room, but then the pain hit and she forgot everything.

Once upon a time, two years ago, she'd been entered into the Triwizard Tournament by a Death Eater. At the end of the Third Task, she'd been transported via the Triwizard Cup being turned into a portkey to a graveyard far from the Hogwarts Quidditch Field. Her friend and opponent in the tournament, Cedric Diggory, had been murdered by Wormtail immediately. She'd been kept alive to be part of a ritual to bring Voldemort back from the dead. Once that had been accomplished, Voldemort had engaged her in a duel that was meant to kill her. During that duel, he had tortured her using the Cruciatus Curse. She'd felt as if her bones were on fire, as if her blood was being boiled inside her.

She felt that same pain now.

She didn't know who had cast the curse, who's choice it was to put her through this pain, but she knew that it was the same curse she'd felt two years ago in that graveyard. She writhed on the carpet, no longer feeling comfort, now able to feel every discomfort in the carpet, the floor, and the boards beneath. A horrible sound echoed through her ears and it took her a few moments to realize that sound was her own screaming.

Then, just as suddenly as the pain had come it was gone and she was left gasping on the floor of the Malfoy's parlor, sweat plastering her long, dark hair to her forehead and turning her skin a sickly gray.

She opened her mouth. She didn't know what she was going to say, perhaps beg them to stop or try to bargain to keep it from happening ever again, but then the pain was back and she was screaming again.

It was the third or fourth time they put her through the curse that she started forcing her mind outside of herself again, thinking about the world abstractly, struggling in the only way she'd recently learned how.

The Persian carpet beneath her. It was the first thing she'd noticed when they'd brought her in here and it was by far the most expensive looking object in the room as well. Even the paintings and sculptures on the mantle weren't nearly as intricate, precise, and genuine as the carpet they were all standing on. What must it have cost Lucius Malfoy to buy a carpet this beautifully made? And why, when they were Purebloods and believed all Muggles and their customs to be scum, would they have a carpet of this style and make anyway?

The pain stopped again, but she hardly noticed it this time.

She hardly noticed the way they tore her clothes off her body, the way they forced their fingers and then more inside of her. She didn't even notice when they made her bleed. She was lost in the beauty of the carpet she was laying on, half in love with it, wanting one for herself, vowing to acquire one once she was free of this place.

There was starlight shining in from the ceiling to floor windows to her right. She turned her head, staring out of it, watching the way it fell onto the gorgeous carpet beneath her. Not for the first time, she thought about a life free of pain, free of fear, but it was getting harder and harder to imagine. And she wondered how things had changed so quickly yet again.

As the stars twinkled above her, she imagined becoming one of them, becoming free through the beauty of the stars. She imagined freeing herself from this place and going to find Hermione and Ron and do what Dumbledore had told her to do: find and destroy Horcruxes. That might be hard to do now, but she would do it. Once she was free, she would. And she believed that with all of her being.

 _But you'll never be free,_ a nasty and unfamiliar voice whispered in her mind. It was new and said words she never expected it to, words she'd never heard from anyone, not even herself, before. _The only way you will be free of this torture is if you die and they're not going to let you die. Not until you're begging for it._

She believed it. With no grand fanfare or crying or even disappointment, she believed it.

The only way she would ever be free of this place was if she died.

And so, for the first time in her life, she awaited the day that would come with an excitement, wonder, and joy she'd not yet known.

ϟ

The sun shone through the thin curtains of Ginny's bedroom window and lit up the floor in patterns that undulated as the curtains blew in the breeze that came through the open window. Hermione stared at the early morning sun. She watched the way the trees blew in the wind. She listened to the birds chirping happily to themselves and each other, a beautiful early alarm clock.

In the corner of her eye, she could see Ginny's sleeping form under the blankets she had piled onto her small bed. Her flame colored hair spread out on the pillow behind her. Hermione envied her ability to sleep despite everything that was going on.

Someone had set up a radio station for those resisting Voldemort and was now announcing the deaths and missing persons as they came. They also reported on Muggle deaths, advances made by the Order of the Phoenix, and other relevant bits of news. Ron had taken to sleeping with his radio on, perched on his window sill and, since everyone was sleeping with their windows open as they moved from a muggy June to a sweltering July, Hermione spent most of her nights listening to the radio shows too, until she fell asleep.

But that wasn't why she'd been up all night last night.

She'd been thinking about Harriet again, wondering where she was, where the Death Eaters might've taken her, but she was as unsure and lost as she'd been when the sun had gone down. Now that it'd come up, she felt like she'd failed at something.

The sun moved farther across the sky, shining now on Ginny's bedspread rather than the floor in front of her bed. She rolled over and her arm dangled over the side of the mattress, the tips of her fingers only a few inches above the rug spread out over the hardwood floor of her bedroom. She let out a sigh and fell back into deep sleep.

Hermione pushed herself up out of bed and crossed the room to the window. She stared out at the green fields and rolling hills that went for miles in every direction. She knew there was a Muggle village nearby and over one of those hills was the house of Luna Lovegood. She'd never really gotten along with Luna, since Luna was so radically different from herself and believed in things that were obviously fake, but she enjoyed her company at times and sometimes her ridiculous ideas ended up being the ones that worked the best.

By the time Mrs. Weasley was calling them all downstairs for breakfast, Hermione had made up her mind. Once she was done eating breakfast, she would go visit Luna and ask her if she was interested in helping them rescue Harriet. She doubted the other girl would say no. Besides, her upbeat attitude was exactly what all of them needed right now.

"Ginny, would you like to go with me to Luna's today?" she asked as they pulled on their bath robes and tromped down the creaky staircase, still in their pajamas.

Ginny's was struggling to tie the strings of her bathrobe into a knot to keep it together, but her eyes were still drooping and her fingers were messy and she was having a hard time accomplishing her task. At Hermione's words, she looked up, abandoning it completely, the strings falling limp at her sides. She smiled and said, "Yes! I'd love to! Usually I've gone to see her by now, but with everything that's been going on, I haven't really gotten a chance."

"We'll go after breakfast," Hermione said as they reached the kitchen. "Ron can come, too, if he wants…" She trailed off. They both glanced back up the stairs. Ron hadn't really left his room since the start of summer vacation.

"We can ask him when we go back upstairs to get dressed," Ginny reassured her.

Hermione nodded, but she wasn't sure Ron would even come out of his room for that.

Breakfast was toast and eggs either scrambled of over easy depending on their preference. There was also fruit and jam for anyone who didn't want butter on their toast. Ginny ate like she hadn't seen food in years, while Hermione had half a piece of toast and felt as if she'd had too much already. She knew she needed to eat more and she wanted to, but ever since Harriet's kidnapping, all she'd been able to do was eat the minimum amount of food during meals.

Once Ginny was finished, the both of them raced back upstairs and threw on their clothes. Hermione was excited to see Luna because the uncharacteristically depressing air of the Burrow was starting to get to her and she could do with some of Luna's upbeat personality. Ginny was excited to see Luna for the same reasons and because, other than Hermione, Luna Lovegood was her first best friend.

They stopped on the landing leading into Ron's bedroom to ask if he wanted to come along, but it looked like he wasn't even awake yet, so they opted to go without him.

"You'll have to lead the way," Hermione said as they left the Burrow and stared out across the expanse of fields stretching from their current location to Luna's home. "I've never been to Luna's house before. I wouldn't even know which direction to start in."

Ginny nodded and led Hermione almost two miles away from the Burrow before they finally reached a cylindrical stone house, surrounding by odd looking plants with a stream flowing through the backyard. Hermione found it fitting that the house was just as strange in appearance as Luna was in personality. For the first time, she wondered what the other girl's family members must be like and decided they had to be just as different as she was.

They walked up the stone steps leading to the door and knocked.

No answer.

They gave each other a confused look and knocked again.

Again, no answer.

"Maybe we should just go inside," Hermione said, trying to peer through the small window that was set into the door. "I'm sure she won't mind. I'm sure her family won't mind either. I mean, we're friends from school."

"The door's probably locked," Ginny replied, looking at the handle.

Hermione let out a small sigh. "Yes, probably," she said. She pulled out her wand, whispered, "Alohomora," waited for the sound of the lock clicking back from its placement, and tried the knob.

The door swung open on the first try.

And they both immediately took a shuddering breath.

The first floor of the house was a wreck. It looked as though a tornado had come through, pulling plates and cups from shelves, covering the floor in broken glass, overturning tables and chairs, throwing books from shelves, scattering paper everywhere, and leaving singed marks everywhere. It took Hermione only a moment more to realize that this was the site of a recent duel between wizards trying to seriously harm one another.

"Mr. Lovegood?" Ginny called as she stepped tentatively into the house. "Mr. Lovegood, are you home? Are you alright?"

Hermione's eyes shifted from the wreckage of the first floor to Ginny's face. She was pale and her hands were clenched into shaking fists at her sides. Hermione understood her fear. She, too, was afraid they would come upon Mr. Lovegood's or Luna's dead bodies rather than their living ones.

Glass crunched under their shoes as they moved further into the house. The entire first floor seemed to be dedicated to being a kitchen. There was a spiral metal staircase in the center of the room that seemed to go all the way up to the top floor of the house. They gave each other a look before they started up the stairs.

The second floor was just as badly damaged as the first. It had once been a living room, Hermione guessed, but now there was couch stuffing all over the place, wallpaper falling off the walls, and more scattered papers and broken glass.

There were a few picture frames that had fallen over as well. She bent down to pick one up and, after looking at the back, realized it was a picture of an eight year old Luna with her mother and father standing behind her. She looked more like her mother, but she had the same hair color as her eccentric looking father.

"Did you hear that?" Ginny asked.

Hermione looked up from the picture, lost in remembering that Luna's mother had died when she was nine years old, only a year after that picture had been taken, but at Ginny's words, she could hear something too, something that sounded like crying coming from the floor above.

Dropping the picture, Hermione and Ginny raced up the stairs, into another room that looked like the main office of a printing press. Crouched near the window was the man from the photo Hermione had seen in the floor below.

Xenophilius Lovegood.

"Mr. Lovegood," Hermione said gently, walking slowly towards him. "Are you alright?"

The man didn't reply. He was shaking, wracked with sobs that terrified the two girls.

"Mr. Lovegood," she said again. "Where's Luna?"

His sobs became even more anguished and for a moment Hermione's fears skyrocketed, wondering if the worst had happened to the sweet, strange girl she'd met through Dumbledore's Army her fifth year.

But then he spoke.

"They came and took her," he gasped out. "They took my Luna."

"Who took her?" Hermione whispered.

But she already knew the answer. She knew it before he turned to her, a haunted look in his eyes, and breathed out the two words she had been praying he wouldn't.

"Death Eaters."

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 **NOTE:** I don't have much to say about this chapter except please leave a review if you read! I really appreciate them and they always pump me up for the next chapter! :)


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